She was aware of swarms of people, strong, cold winds, and a familiar voice. “Nealy! Oh, Jesus God!” Riley Coleman said, his voice catching in his throat. “Cole! Over here! It's Nealy!”
“Is Flyby okay? Did he get burned?” A moan of pain escaped her lips.
“He's okay, Nealy. Just scared. We'll take care of him. We have to get you to a hospital.” He watched, his eyes wide with disbelief when the stallion dipped downward so Nealy could be lifted off his back. Satisfied that her beloved horse was safe, Nealy allowed herself to be taken off the horse's back. Her head rolled to the side as she lost consciousness.
“Mom! Mom!” Emmie screamed over and over. She fell to the ground to stare at her unconscious mother, afraid to touch her. She looked up at Riley and Cole. “We have to do something. What? I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do. Please tell me what to do.”
“Where's the nearest hospital? What's the name of it?” Riley asked, flipping open his cell phone.
“Twenty miles away. Kentucky General.”
“Oh, Mom, I'm so sorry. Hang on, please. We're going to get you to a hospital. Please don't die, Mom. I won't know what to do without you. Please, Mom.”
The cell phone snapped shut. “All their ambulances are out on calls. We have to take her there ourselves. Which vehicle is best? Tell us where it is so we can make a bed in the back. Give us directions. We'll take care of your mom.”
“Who are you?” Emmie asked, staring up at the soot-blackened face, the voice familiar yet unfamiliar.
“Does it matter?”
“No. No, it doesn't matter.” Emmie sobbed.
The family arrived, one by one, and then the others came from far and wideâfriends of the family, business associatesâto help with the animals and fires.
Everywhere, as far as the eye could see, fires dotted the sky. The air was thick with black, choking smoke. The animals, frightened out of their wits, hugged the fencing in the pasture as they herded together, the grooms and workers doing their best to calm them.
“All we can do is let the barns burn to the ground. Where the hell is the fucking rain?” Metaxas roared. As if in answer to his plea, the skies opened up as the wind kicked up several notches.
“Where's Mom?” Nick yelled to be heard over the crackling flames and howling wind.
Metaxas whirled around to focus on Hatch, who was standing next to Nick. “They took her to the hospital. Emmie and Ruby went with her. I . . . what . . .”
“What?” Hatch thundered.
“She . . . she . . . was badly burned. Riley Coleman and his cousin drove them in to the hospital. There were no available ambulances. That's all I know. She was unconscious, Nick. Go ahead; the two of you go to the hospital. The horses are out, and all we can do is wait and hope this rain douses the fires. If not, they have to burn themselves out. Take a look around,” Metaxas said, pointing to all the blazing fires that could be seen off in the distance. “What are you standing here for? Go! We're doing everything that can be done on this end.”
Nick wiped a sooty hand over his face. “Metaxas, how bad was Mom burned?”
Metaxas choked on his words. “Real bad, son.” He swiped at the tears running down his cheeks.
Hatch stood rooted to the ground. He made no move to follow Nick.
Metaxas shoved him backward. “You stupid, goddamn Indian! Go! Didn't you hear me? There's nothing you can do here. Nealy needs you.”
Metaxas sat down on the ground outside the pasture fencing to stare at the devastation in front of him. His gaze swept up and around at all the fires lighting the sky. Behind him he could hear the restless animals. He thought of Nealy and how badly burned she was. He wanted to pray, but he couldn't remember the words he'd learned as a child. His head dropped to his hands. He cried. Great, shoulder-racking sobs that tore at his body. When the words finally came to him, he prayed because there wasn't anything else he could do.
Â
Â
Riley roared up to the front of the emergency entrance to Kentucky General Hospital. He hopped out, the engine still running, to run through the open doors leading to the emergency room, shouting all the way. “I have a burn victim out here. I need help!” He watched, his eyes filling with tears as Nealy was lifted onto a gurney. He saw Cole wipe at his eyes as his arm reached out to pull Emmie close to him. Ruby stood in a trance, her body black from head to toe. Her sobs tore at his heart.
A nurse in a crisp white uniform approached him. “I need to gather some information from you, sir. Will you come with me please?” Cole nodded, his hold on Emmie secure. Ruby trailed alongside, her face a mask of misery.
“I can't tell you much other than her name is Nealy Clay. I don't know anything about her insurance or anything like that. Look, if you need money, I can leave you a check or a deposit. Whatever you want. Her daughter is outside, but she's in no shape to talk about something like this.”
“
The
Nealy Diamond Clay from Blue Diamond Farms?” the nurse asked in awe.
Riley nodded. “There's nothing left of the farm now, though,” he muttered.
“Wait right here, sir.”
Riley leaned back and closed his eyes. He wanted to pound his feet on the floor and shake his fists. It seemed like light-years ago when Nealy Clay had walked into his kitchen and told them she'd paid off the loans on Sunbridge. He thought about her daily from that day on. She'd become his savior. Something he didn't take lightly. She'd literally given him back his and his family's lives. And she'd asked nothing in return except to be left in peace.
The charge nurse ran down the hall to the administrative offices shouting, “Mr. Olmstead, we just admitted Nealy Diamond Clay. You might want to take over here. Miz Clay is burned over half her body.”
The pudgy man was off his swivel chair in a heartbeat, his glasses jiggling on his nose as he made his way to the emergency room while the charge nurse returned to the admitting desk and Riley Coleman.
“Miz Clay is in good hands, sir. I suggest you and your party return to the farm and clean up. You might be carrying some infectious germs,” she said primly. “We do everything humanly possible to safeguard our patients. For now, we'll waive the paperwork until Miz Clay's daughter can do it. Don't look at me like that, young man. We have an excellent burn center here at Kentucky General. Everything possible is being done for Miz Clay. I can assure you of that.”
Riley looked down at his torn and blackened jeans, at his right boot whose toe seemed to be missing. He knew he was black from head to toe, as black as Cole and Emmie looked. He nodded wearily as he started down the long hall that led to the outside emergency door, where Cole, Emmie, and Ruby waited.
“What did they say? How's Mom?” Nick demanded as he hopped out of the car that squealed to a stop next to Emmie's 4-by-4.
“I don't know anything. They took her into the room and left me standing there. The nurse said they have an excellent burn unit.” He jerked his head backward, and said, “That nurse said we had to go home and clean up because we might be carrying germs.”
Hatch staggered around the front of the car. “Didn't they tell you
anything
?”
Riley felt the urge to cry all over again. “No. They just rushed her into the room. I think, and this is just my opinion, it's going to be a while before we hear anything. I hate saying this, but she was burned pretty bad. Her shirt . . . her shirt . . . the sleeves, they were burned into the skin on her arms. She was unconscious when we brought her in. I wish I had something better to tell you, but I don't. I'm sorry.”
“Her hair was fried right off her head.” Emmie sobbed. “All her beautiful hair was gone.”
“Did she say anything before she lost consciousness?” Hatch's voice pleaded with Riley to tell him something he wanted to hear.
Riley nodded. “She wanted to know if Flyby was safe. That horse carried her out. I can't even begin to imagine how she got on his back. He ran through the flames with her on his back. Shufly made it out on his own.”
Hatch looked down at his filthy clothes. “I'm not going anywhere. If I have to, I'll sit out here all night.”
“Me, too,” Emmie said.
“That goes for me, too,” Nick said.
“I'll go back with you,” Ruby said. “They might need my help.”
“I have a suggestion,” Cole said. “We'll go back to the farm and bring clean clothes and you can wash up in the rest rooms. We'll send someone with your things and we'll stay and help at the farm. Is that okay with all of you?” The little group nodded in agreement.
“The farm's gone,” Nick muttered, his eyes on the hospital windows. “On the way here we could see the other farms. None of them fared any better than we did. The whole thing was . . .
unholy
. It was like the Devil himself unleashed all his fury in one wild swoop. I am never, ever, going to understand what happened tonight. Never!”
Hatch sat down on an iron bench near the entrance and dropped his head into his hands.
“I hate leaving them here like this,” Cole said, getting into the driver's seat of the 4-by-4.
“I do, too, but there isn't a thing either one of us can do. We'll be more help back at the farm, or what's left of it.”
“It was like a holocaust,” Cole whispered. “I never saw anything like that in my whole life. You at least rode out a tornado, and there was that time your grandfather pitched a fit in the garden, but no way does either one of those things compare to what happened tonight. The sun will be up soon.”
“A new day,” Riley said, rolling up the window. “The temperature is dropping.”
“We have to think about getting some shelter for the horses. Every farm owner in these parts will be hitting the lumber stores as soon as they open. I suggest we call the people you deal with in Texas and have it airlifted here. People were coming in masses as we drove away. I thought I saw Birch and Sage Thornton, so that means they brought people. If we get the lumber, we can have some kind of shelter up by nightfall. What do you say, Riley?”
“I say we go for it. I don't know the first thing about building a barn, though. My talents run to working on the oil rigs and stretching fencing. Do you know anything about building a barn, Cole?” Riley's voice rang with anxiety.
“Nope. I think we're going to learn real fast. It's payback time.”
“Do you think she'll make it?”
“I honest to God don't know. Her skin was . . . was
charred
. I don't know how you recover from something like that. I don't know anything about burns, just the way I don't know anything about building barns. I hope she'll be okay. It might take a long time but if she has the best there is, she might stand a fighting chance. Let's just hope for the best and do what we can at the farm to help out.”
“Okay.”
“She'll be okay,” Ruby whispered. “I know she will. If I have to, I'll breathe my life into her. I won't let her die. I won't. Do you hear me? I won't let Nealy die!”
16
“Christmas,” the Reverend Babcock said to his parishioners, “is a time of miracles. Let us all bow our heads in prayer that our rebuilding will continue through this holiday season and into the New Year. Let us give thanks to all those who have come to help us in our hour of need. And let us pray for Nealy Clay's full recovery.”
Hatch wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nick put his arm around Emmie's shoulders to comfort her. Gabby sat quietly in Smitty's lap, sucking her thumb.
There was no finery, no flowers, no candles, no religious statues in the tent Metaxas's people had erected for the service. There was, however, a makeshift altar. In a matter of hours after the devastation, the tent had gone up, and now served as an office, a mess tent, and a church. Within minutes, the minister would remove his robes and go on to the next farm, where he would pray with another family. The Blue Diamond tent would once again become a command post.
Hatch couldn't remember a time when he'd been this tired. Just the way everyone else was tired. While the others snatched a few hours' sleep when they could, he went to the hospital to stand his vigil. When darkness fell, the workers, one by one, would trickle to the front of the hospital with lighted candles.
Others had come, too. The news media, the breeders, the jockeys, the mayor, and the governor to light their candles and to say a prayer. Dagmar Doolittle arrived on the third day and lived out of her car, refusing to leave.
According to the local newspapers, the hospital had to request extra volunteers to handle the flood of mail and flowers, all addressed to Nealy Clay. Perhaps the most poignant, the most visible show of emotion came when the president of the United States and the first lady spoke at a televised news conference, where they both bowed their heads and offered a prayer for Nealy's full and complete recovery. After the conference, pictures Dagmar Doolittle's photographer had taken of the president and Nealy appeared on the screen. Following the pictures there were live updates from the hospital administrator, who spoke guardedly of Nealy's condition. Nealy Diamond Clay was news.
A persistent reporter from one of the tabloids asked pointed questions, the kind the administrator dodged from long years of practice. “Nealy Clay is in critical condition,” was all he would commit to. When the same persistent reporter demanded to know if Nealy was on the brink of death, Dagmar popped him with a wide swing of the string bag she always wore around her neck like a life preserver. Security was called out, and Dagmar made the front page of the paper.
It was midnight when Hatch settled himself on one of the blue sofas in the lobby of the hospital. In just a minute it would be December 26, the day he was supposed to have married Nealy Clay. His shoulders slumped. Dagmar joined him. She patted his arm.
“Aren't they saying anything, Hatch? Have you spoken to the doctors?”
“Every chance I get. It could go either way. She's unconscious. She has to be in severe pain. Between Metaxas and me we managed to fly in the best of the best. The burn unit is top-notch. They're afraid . . . of . . . pneumonia. I'm afraid, too. I don't know what I'll do if I lose her. We were supposed to get married today. We had such grand plans. Wonderful plans. We were going to grow old together.”
Dagmar reached for his hand and squeezed it. “This might be just wishful thinking on my part, but I think she is going to pull out of this. Nealy is a fighter. She has everything in the world to live for, her kids, Gabby, the horses, and you. She loves you with all her heart. You must know that, Hatch.”
“Sometimes it simply isn't enough. I loved like that once, and I lost my wife and son. I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless.”
“There's a chapel here in the hospital. We could go there and perhaps we can find some solace.”
“I've always believed in the white man's God. The missionaries used to come to the reservation and hold Bible classes. I found theology very comforting. I still hold to the old ways in some instances. I don't ever want to give that up. I am what I am. It's sad when you think about it. People tend to pray when there is nothing else to do. Why is prayer always a last resort? I just don't understand, Dagmar. I've tried to live a good life. I try to do good. I don't cheat, I don't lie, I don't steal, and I don't try to put things over on people. I look around at all those people who get away with murder, rape, and child abuse. They walk around free thumbing their noses at the rest of us. Why do children have to die before they have a chance to live? Why does a father have to bury his child? I want answers. I
need
answers.”
“If I had the answers, I would give them to you, Hatch, but I don't. Come with me to the chapel. You don't have to pray. We can just sit there. It's very peaceful.”
Hatch lumbered to his feet. He looked so whipped, Dagmar wanted to cry for him. “How are things going at the farm?” she asked.
“They managed to raise a barn in one day. The finishing touches will take a while. I think they got the second one up today. There was one barn left standing at the Goldberg place Metaxas bought, but thank God there were no horses in it. The house was destroyed, and three barns. Metaxas was able to take nine of our horses over there. Ruby is taking care of them. I never saw such devastation. The miracle is no one lost any horses. Aside from a few cases of smoke inhalation, and a few minor burns, no one was hurt but Nealy. I don't understand how that can be.”
“Maybe you aren't supposed to understand. Maybe none of us is supposed to understand. You aren't supposed to question God. I used to get cracked on my knuckles when I would ask the nuns questions like that. I think that's why I don't go to church much and why I became a reporter. I want answers. Like you, I
need
answers. I hope I get them before I have to leave next week.”
Â
Â
It was the day before Valentine's Day when Nealy Clay came out of her drug-induced haze and said her first word. “Aspirin.” The private-duty nurse almost jumped out of her skin. She pressed a button to summon the doctor before she made her way to the bed. “In a minute, Ms. Clay. Tell me, do you know where you are?”
Nealy slipped back to the black void she'd lived in so long. Then she saw light and the pasture. She watched from the edge of her black void as Flyby ran, snorting and tossing his head in search of his owner. “I'm here. Over here, Flyby. Come here, baby.” And he was there, nuzzling her, pushing her ahead and then sideways. She could feel his touch all over. “No, no, that hurts. Be gentle, baby. I don't have any mints. How could I forget them? I'll buy more. Look, there's Maud and Jess and Hunt. Oh, they came to see you. You act like a gentleman now. I tell them all the time how wonderful you are when I visit in the cemetery. No, no, that hurts. You would never hurt me. Why are you doing that, Flyby? What's wrong? Make him stop, Hunt. Maud, isn't he beautiful? Look, there's Shufly. I won two Crowns for you, Maud. Come closer so I can see you. Jess, did you come to get me?”
“Nealy, can you hear me? I'm Dr. Clancy. Open your eyes, Nealy.”
“What did you say, Maud? I can't hear you. People are talking.”
“Talk to me, Nealy. Open your eyes. Nurse, close the blinds halfway.”
Nealy opened her eyes but could barely focus. “Aspirin,” she repeated, coming into the light.
“I'll give you something for the pain in a minute. Do you know where you are, Nealy?”
“No. Yes. In the pasture. Maybe it's the paddock. Everyone is there. Aspirin.”
“You're in the hospital. Do you remember the storm and lightning strikes?”
“No. It was green and beautiful. Very peaceful. Aspirin. Please.”
She was back in the pasture with Flyby, only this time she was on his back, riding faster than the wind. “Oh, that feels so good. The wind is cold today. I thought I was burning up. You always make things better, Flyby. No one but me knows how much I love you. Where did everyone go?” She called out to Maud, to Jess, and to Hunt. From somewhere in the distance she thought she heard a dog bark. Charlie? No, not Charlie. Who? “I have to sleep, Flyby. I can't ride anymore.”
“She's out of the black hole. For now. I'll call the family,” Dr. Clancy said. “In the meantime, nurse, keep talking to her. Each time she opens her eyes she'll stay awake a few seconds longer. Don't stop talking. She can hear you. I know she can. Sooner or later she's going to join the world.”
“And then, Doctor . . . ?”
“Then it's going to depend on Nealy Clay.”
Smitty took the call in the kitchen, one hand on the coffeepot and the other on the phone. She dropped both and ran as fast as she could toward the new barn. “Nealy's awake. She talked. The doctor just called. Tell everyone!”
They came from everywhere to ply her with questions. “That's all Dr. Clancy said. She opened her eyes and asked for aspirin. She's awake. God, isn't it wonderful?”
Emmie ran to Smitty and hugged her. Ruby started to cry. Metaxas wiped his eyes on his shirtsleeve. Hatch dropped his hammer and ran to his car. The others followed.
Â
Â
Three weeks passed before Nealy was able to join the world. She woke, aware of her pain, and knew instantly where she was and what had happened. She called out, her voice weak and rusty-sounding. “How long have I been here?”
“You were brought in a few days before Christmas. It's the first week in March. Friday to be exact.”
“Wedding.” Tears burned her eyes.
“Your fiancé has been here every day since you were brought in. Your family, too. One of the nurses in the admitting office kept a record of all the people who stopped by to inquire about you. Tons of flowers came and sacks and sacks of cards. We had to add extra volunteers to help out. We even have a video of the president and the first lady saying a prayer for you at one of his news conferences. Here's your doctor now, Ms. Clay. He can answer any questions you might have. He might even say you can have visitors.”
Nealy struggled to find her voice. Her tongue was thick in her mouth. She longed for an ice-cold glass of chocolate milk. Her memory returned in little puffs of vapor, or so it seemed. If it was March and the fire was before Christmas, that had to mean she was in serious condition. She struggled with her thoughts and the pain.
“Mirror,” Nealy said.
The doctor's response was curt and sharp. “NO!”
“Yes.” Nealy could feel her toes curl in anger at the doctor's strong verbal response. It had to mean something if he wouldn't give her a mirror. Was her face burned?
“Not now. Later.” Maybe he didn't have a mirror. Her toes uncurled.
“Home?” The single word was a question.
The doctor shook his head. “Not for a while. Soon, though. Would you like to see your family? They can visit through the glass.”
“Mirror.” Hatch. Hatch could see her through the glass. Emmie and Nick, too.
The doctor shook his head a second time. “No.”
“No visitors,” Nealy said. Her eyes continued to burn. “Drink.”
The nurse spooned ice chips into her mouth. Nealy savored each one. “More.”
“Are you saying you don't want any visitors?”
“No visitors. Mirror.” She turned her head and felt the bandage on the side of her face scrape the pillow. She moved her head again and again. She wanted to touch her face, her hair, but she couldn't find her hands. “Hair.”
“Your hair is growing back. The burns on your head have begun to heal,” the doctor said. “The bandages on your face will come off soon.”
Nealy screamed and screamed. And then she was back in her black hole, where it was safe and warm.
The nurse turned away so the doctor wouldn't see how her eyes filled with tears. She mumbled an apology. The doctor nodded.
The days passed slowly after that, one after the other. Each time Nealy woke, she appeared stronger, more talkative. She'd left her black hole for good and would, according to the doctor, mend. He cautioned the road would be long and painful.
Nealy accepted it all because she had no other choice. She was adamant about not having visitors. She did agree to speak to her family and to Hatch on the phone. Two-minute calls left her exhausted.
It was the beginning of Derby week when the bandages finally came off and Nealy was given a mirror. The scream she wanted to let loose on the world died in her throat. All she could do was stare at the hideous creature she'd turned into. She didn't cry. She didn't say anything. Her silence alarmed the team of doctors standing by.
It took every ounce of courage in her body not to black out. She was so dizzy, so frightened at what she'd seen in the mirror that she closed her eyes and shoved the mirror away. “I want to go back to my room.” The head doctor nodded to the nurse.